


find out what we're made of

by pettigrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 4 Things, 4+1 Things, 5 Things, Best Friends, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Future Fic, Gay Theo Raeken, Gen, M/M, Pack Cuddles, Pack Feels, Pansexual Scott McCall, Prison Break references, Relationship Advice, Relationship Study, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Sleepy Cuddles, Slice of Life, ranting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: 4 times Scott is there for his pack members + 1 time one of them is there for him.





	find out what we're made of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruxian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruxian/gifts).



> Written for Rux's birthday! I hope you have a happy one. I've said this already, but one of the best things happening in 2018 was that we started talking.
> 
> Also thanks to [Mal](http://jonaskkahnwald.tumblr.com/) for helping me with Stiles Being Polish(TM).
> 
> This is set about a year after the finale episode and is canon compliant except for one thing: Sheriff Stilinski's parents both live in Poland, they're very happy there and nobody is abandoned and sad in some random retirement home, thank you.
> 
> The title is from Bruno Mars' "Count on Me".

1.

Scott huffs as he frowns down at his tablet, trying to make sense of the recipe in front of him. Trust the internet to include just about every information there is, including supernatural or otherwise horrifying (because _yes_ , the porn they’d accidentally stumbled upon during their first ventures into it is _way_ more scarring than most beings they have faced in real life, _thank you_ ), but at the same time it doesn’t even manage to translate things like _indyka_. He’s tried googling that but he only found this car repair store or whatever somewhere in Europe, so that’s out. If he could just go home and grab his own version of the recipe - handwritten by Bubbie Stilinski and translated by the Sheriff - then he could make sense of it _and_ guarantee that it’ll taste _awesome_. Or _close_ to awesome at least; it’s made by _him_ , after all. He’s actually pretty sure that Stiles has no idea his grandmother has entrusted _Scott_ with one of her most treasured recipes years ago already, so that would have made the surprise perfect.

Things would be easier if he knew which letters even belonged to the same phrase or something because googling things that look like single words doesn’t seem to do the trick. If only he had Bubbie’s number… Then again, though, it’s probably, like, the middle of the night over in Poland, so that wouldn’t work out. That idea gives him another one, however.

“Hey, it’s me - Scott,” he says quickly into his phone as soon as the Sheriff has picked up.

“Yeah, figured. I still got your number saved, son.”, Noah replies, swallowing a chuckle as he talks.

Scott frowns. “Don’t you wanna make sure it’s actually me?” He’s pretty sure there’s been an incident with a shapeshifter here in Beacon Hills while he was gone. That should’ve taught everyone something, right?

The Sheriff lets out a small sigh at that. “Fine. I’ll test you. So… What was the first thing you told me when we first met?”

Scott thinks about it for a moment - not because he doesn’t know the answer but because he’s not sure whether that’s a _good_ test. How difficult would it be to get intel on that? He’s not even sure if it’s only Noah and him who know that. He should ask Stiles and Theo in due time, and maybe his mom, too. Those are the ones who _could_ know. For now, though, he deems it an acceptable question. “That I’mma marry Stiles one day,” he replies easily. “To which you, by the way, just said ‘of course you will’ and to this day I don’t know what to make of that.”

“ _Hell_ , if I remember every thought I ever had about your friendship.”, the Sheriff answers. Scott lets that slide because _yeah_ , it’s been a pretty eventful while since then. “So, what can I do for ya?”

“Is he anywhere with you?”

“Stiles? Nah. He just went off to Deaton’s.”

Instantly, Scott grins. “Great!”

“Is it?” He can practically _see_ Noah raise his brows. “You know how frustrated he gets with Deaton’s cryptic answers. Give him an honest riddle and the boy will be happy as ever, but when he _asks_ for something explicit--”

Scott laughs at that. He’s more than aware of Stiles’ dislike for his mentor; it’s already been there before the supernatural stepped into their lives, but ever since _those_ depended on whatever information Deaton could give to them, Stiles had grown more and more impatient with the vet until finally he refused to join him on trips there. Now that _he’s_ the one who’s convinced that there is some kinda creature involved in the FBI’s latest problem, he can’t get out of that. Hence the exhaustion he’d radiated when Scott had called him earlier.

“Yeah, no, you gotta tell me something he’s not supposed to overhear, that’s all.”, he explains. He doesn’t need his chemosignals to be able to tell how confused the Sheriff is, so he continues, “I know jackshit about Polish.”

“I… am aware?”

“You gotta translate something for me. A recipe.”, Scott tells him. He rubs his neck because Noah will probably ask what he wants with that if he’s in Davis and _well_ , he pretty much said already that it’s _for_ Stiles, so he’ll either blow his cover or have to lie. And he’s _never_ been good at lying; the fact that it took so long for people to notice he’s a werewolf is all Stiles’ doing, actually. “It’s _Schabowy_. Again.”

It must be his lucky day because Noah doesn’t catch up on any of his worries. Thankfully. “Oh, left your copy at home, did you? Well, tough luck, I don’t know it by heart, but I can ask Melissa to get it for you--”

“Nah, that’s fine! I found a version online but some ingredients-- I don’t know what the hell they’re supposed to be.”

There’s a small pause before Noah carefully says, “You do know that you can just go and get a store-fixed Schnitzel in case of emergency, right? I doubt there’ll be a difference.”

“Why do I have the feeling your mother would be killing you for that statement if she were here?”, Scott chuckles. He remembers too well how worked up Bubbie has gotten in the kitchen back when she visited multiple times a year (her doctors had given her an order a few years back about how she isn’t supposed to fly anywhere as it messes up her blood pressure and all that… and actually, given how much of a mess their lives have become, it’s probably been for the better). She’d always insisted on preparing everything herself, even if it takes hours. Funny that of all the things she had ever cooked, the only recipe he’d gotten was of the easiest and quickest meal. “No, but seriously. I just need a few translations.”

Noah doesn’t sounds too happy, but _honestly_ , if he doesn’t have any time, he could just say so. Scott doesn’t know what he’d do if he can’t decipher this recipe right now, but it’d be fine. “Okay, shoot.”, the Sheriff offers, making Scott grin.

 

-

 

Scott’s _pretty_ sure that Stiles is not a supernatural. Sure, there was the time with the nogitsune, which they’d all rather forget about, and the way pretty much every creature out there seems to be interested in him on some level - but also kind of respectful? Like when Peter _offered_ Stiles the bite and _accepted_ his negative reply. Scott still can’t fully understand that but according to Derek it was one of his more reflective moments. Anyway, the point is: Stiles is a human (he thinks?) and yet he comes in with his nose up high in the air and sniffing as if he had an enhanced sense of smell.

“Are you _cooking_?”, Stiles yells as he throws his bag onto the couch and makes his way into the kitchen.

“Just about finished,” Scott answers. He turns off the stove in that moment, and swiftly moves around Stiles on his way to the sink. “Just need to mash the potatoes, go sit down.”

Predictably, Stiles doesn’t move an inch. Instead, he just leans against the counter and watches him skeptically. “Hang on, is that _Kotlet schabowy_?”

“Yeah, I also tried to make _mizeria_ but I have no idea if that worked so well.”, Scott replies over his shoulder. He pours the water out of the pot and starts searching for a masher in one of the drawers. Does Derek even own any kitchenware? He doesn’t seem like the guy to cook. “Don’t tell your grandma about this. Like, ever.”

“Why the hell did you _cook_ , man?”, Stiles wants to know. In the next moment he’s standing next to Scott, placing a hand against his forehead. “All that leisure time not good for you?”

“Fuck off,” Scott announces and ducks to the side. He finally finds a masher on _top_ of one of the shelves which doesn’t even make sense because Derek isn’t that much taller than him. “Figured you could use something nice after the day you had.” He starts mashing the potatoes and adds, “Can you go grab some mil--”

He’s cut off when Stiles presses a kiss against his cheek. And then another. And another. Until he’s basically just swiping his tongue against it.

“Dude, _gross_!” Scott shoves him away. Sure, it might not be the first time that happened and certainly not the only place Stiles’ mouth has ever been on his body but _still_ . How did he deserve this now? He lifts his shirt to clean his cheek and makes some exaggerated noises just _because_.

“That was love, dude,” Stiles clarifies with a grin. “You’re too good to me.”

Scott snorts. Sometimes he wonders where _Stiles_ got _his_ dramatics from (because he knows for sure his own have the source of his best friend), seeing how his dad is pretty calm. There’s nothing _too good_ about cooking for someone who’s had an exhausting and annoying day and could use something to lift his spirits. With the FBI approving his internship (within an internship, which is pretty confusing if you ask Scott) back in his dad’s station, they’d both thought it’d be an easy task. Now, though, Stiles gets intel on things happening close to Beacon Hills and well… The closer to Beacon the more rational it becomes to assume the _irrational_. So basically Stiles is just driving himself crazy with theories and other than his dad and Parrish there’s nobody whom he could even tell about them and they are always busy so-- everything’s up to him.

So yeah, Scott thinks a warm meal is nothing special.

As always, Stiles can read his mind. “No, seriously, dude. This is so sweet,” he says with a wide smile. Finally he walks up to the fridge and takes out the milk like Scott’s asked for. “Blowjob sound like a good thanks?”

Scott chokes on dry air at that.

 

2.

“You guys share a bed?”, Malia asks with a raised eyebrow. There’s no disbelief in her voice, just amusement dripping off it faintly, and Scott supposes that’s a better reaction than what should be expected - she’s the ex of the _both_ of them, after all.

He just shrugs. “Derek’s only got the one.” And why wouldn’t he? It’s not like Derek’s ever had someone - beside someone he dated - to share any of his flats with, so there’s been no use. On the few times that members of his pack have stayed over, the couch has been enough. Scott, however, thinks it would be horribly rude to just tell her to take the couch (he’s been raised to be very hospitable, thank you very much), so he explained it to her.

“Hm,” Malia just makes and pushes herself away from the doorframe. “Well, it’s big enough.”

“Big enough for wha--” Scott starts, but is cut off when she walks past him and throws herself on top of the sheets. She doesn’t pose in anyway sexual or something, like Lydia used to do so often back in the days where she played dumb, but then again she’s never been one to do so. There’s rarely a way to tell whether Malia’s planning to seduce you or not - until she basically pulls you into her. Right now, though, he doubts she has any of that in mind, not with the way she nuzzles deeper into the pillows. “That tired?”

Malia turns her head a little, but without lifting her head, so Scott’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to hear her if not for his heightened hearing. “You try flying around the world just for-- I don’t even _know_.”

Scott presses his lips together in reply. He gets her, really, he _does_ . Still, he’d hoped they’d talk about her time in Paris first, hear how Isaac - whom she’d agreed to meet up with, seeing how they’re both supernaturals from the same town, same _pack_ even, guaranteeing to look out for each other, in the same foreign land - is doing, all that. “It was only half the globe,” he points out nonetheless.

“Potato, Potahto,” Malia groans. She shifts a little, rolling to the side slightly and continues, “You gonna keep standing there or what?”

Shaking his head in a laugh, Scott lets himself fall down next to her. He supposes that to others it could seem weird, him crawling into bed to take a nap with his ex, but it’s not like anything’s about to happen. And even if it were, they’re both single and it wouldn’t be the first time they randomly ended up sleeping with one another - though their whole relationship was more a rebound than anything else. Now, he thinks, it’d be some kind of a greeting and _well_ , he likes to show his affection physically whereas he thinks Malia’s just lacking the ability to really _talk_ about her feelings. It’s always worked.

But like stated, Malia seems to be really just profoundly tired and cuddles have _always_ been his favourite. Can’t blame him for hugging her closely while she drifts off.

 

-

 

“Well, if that isn’t a sight I haven’t seen in a while.”

Scott supposes he didn’t sleep too tightly because he knows for sure he can sleep through Stiles’ voice at all times, no matter how loud he’s being. It’s been somewhat relieving to learn that’s stayed a fact even with his new skills because while the sounds Stiles makes while jerking off _can_ be pleasant, they surely aren’t when you’re not prepared for them. So yeah, if he jerks awake at Stiles’ words, then it’s because he wasn’t too far gone either way.

Apparently it’s the same for Malia because in the same moment that he wakes up, she groans into his ribcage. “You’re just jealous.”, she announces and lifts her arm, probably to show Stiles off.

Stiles’ laugh in reply is no surprise. “Maybe. Though, of you or of Scotty?”, he reasons. There’s a pause and Scott contemplates opening his eyes, but then Stiles continues, “I think it’s cuddles in general. Head’s up - I’m joining in.”

Scott snorts. “‘Course you are.” He feels a dip to the side when Stiles climbs into bed next to Malia and turns his head so that he’s facing him. Maybe it’s a reminder of the training with Deucalion, but he feels like he can make out Stiles’ profile even with his eyes closed; the way he feels Stiles’ warm breath against his cheek just above Malia’s hairline just filling in the picture.

“Good to have you here, Mals,” Stiles says softly and then his arm is around her and his hand placed on Scott’s stomach.

Scott muses that he’s way too used to Malia’s growl for his own well-being. He supposes they should actually talk about how she’d rather stay here than at one of her fathers’ places - he supposes he can understand, somehow, because Peter’s still kind of a dick and she hasn’t properly talked to Henry since… well. A long time. It’s probably the reason she’s not immediately went to his place for the talk he’s asked for, but come to them (to _him_ , her Alpha). Derek’s told him, more than once, that the presence of the alpha has a calming effect on the other members of the pack; he’s ever since then tried hard to make sure that they know it’s not just his _status_ , but that he really _cares_.

That’s probably the reason why he doesn’t talk right now, not because it’s too comfortable like this - not to _him_ , anyways. Malia might need to talk about it at some point, but right now she doesn’t want to. He’d rather make sure things are happening on her terms (because God knows they’ve all had too little of that in the past) and that she finds the comfort she craves.

“Same,” he adds to Stiles’ comment and presses a kiss against her head. He accepts the hiss he receives in return gladly.

 

3.

There was a time when Scott got a little mad when they got interrupted while they binged a show. Then, with time, such interruptions have come to alert some kind of fear inside of him, because now it usually means there’s something powerful and somewhat magical causing trouble to his hometown. It doesn’t help that right now it’s Liam who’s reeking of anxiety and worry as he storms into the flat - and honestly, Scott’s not even sure if Derek never put in a lock, he and Stiles haven’t bothered checking because it’s not like it would do anything against the enemies they’d face. If it weren’t for his heart racing at Liam’s problems, he’d almost be glad for the interruption this time around. Scott had wanted to skip the episode in their rewatch, but Stiles loves shit-talking T-Bag more than Scott despises seeing his crimes, so they’d put it on in the end. Now it’s still running, but their attention is on Liam as they rise to their feet.

Liam looks - _well_ , not awful exactly, but like he hasn’t gotten a full night of sleep in a while. Which doesn’t fit, really, because the full moon’s been two weeks ago and generally, he’s become quite used to it. He’s more in control, almost like it’s been when Hayden was around (maybe even better), and learnt to enjoy the energy burst during that one night, while the tides leave him unaffected for the rest of the month. Usually. And as far as Scott knows.

Now, though, he looks kinda… haunted, with the dark circles under his eyes and wide stare. It makes anxiety crawl up Scott’s veins, too.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”, Stiles says before he can, because Stiles is always faster when it comes to talking. Where Scott’s always still trying to figure out how to phrase things exactly, Stiles has already spluttered out everything that comes to mind - two ways of walking the same path, really.

Liam needs a moment to answer and for a short moment, Scott can see a hint of anger in his features. Then, after a deep inhale, it’s gone again. “I-- no, I’m alright. Everything is… okay.”

Stiles squints. “You sure? Because I don’t need your special connection or whatever to understand you practically _running_ up the stairs to this apartment and looking like you’re chased--”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Scott cuts in, giving him a look. It makes him huff, but he closes his mouth nonetheless. To Liam, he continues, “So, nobody in danger?”

Liam shakes his head, but he avoids Scott’s eyes for some reason.

“It’s got nothing to do with supernaturals, does it?”, Scotts wants to know. He already knows the answer to that question, he knows that it’s something personal with the way Liam looks down to the floor and bites his lips, but it’s better to ask.

Again, Liam shakes his head.

“Oh, _is_ this about your _bond_?”, Stiles wants to know. “I can always leave, you know.” It’s surprising, really, because usually Stiles is the nosiest person he knows and it’s not like there’s any secrets between them, but he figures it’s the thought that counts.

Liam looks up immediately, expression wild like he’s _freaked out_ by that prospect. “No! Probably better if you’re here for that.”

Scott turns to look at Stiles swiftly, but he’s just met with a face as clueless as his own. He knows better than to jump to conclusions, primarily because the initial fears that run through your head at such a display don’t apply to werewolves. Liam can’t have been diagnosed with cancer or something the like, he can’t have STDs or whatever, and if someone else were hurt, he’d already have said so. No, it seems like it’s a personal, an _emotional_ problem, one that affects them all if he wants Stiles to immediately know about it as well.

“Well…?”, Stiles prompts.

“Let’s sit down.”, Scott demands first, reaching out for Liam and pulling him over to his couch. He knows that Liam rarely goes for his embraces, only when he’s completely lost it and needs something to hold onto, but it doesn’t keep him from making them sit close to each other. He keeps a hand on Liam’s shoulder for good measure, too.

Stiles sighs and reaches for the remote, finally pausing the TV as he sinks down on his armchair again. Then they both look at him; Scott patiently and Stiles expectantly.

Liam draws in another deep breath before finally announcing, “I… have a crush. On a guy.”

Scott tilts his head a little but waits because while those certainly _are_ news, they don’t exactly justify his reaction. Or well, the way he reacts to _them_ because of it. There’s something deeper, something that worries him in a way that seeps into his bones with how he both turns away from _and_ into Scott’s touch.

Of course, Stiles is oblivious to all of this. “Hang on, is that you coming out to us because _man_ \-- I thought, with the way you and that dude from Satomi’s pack--”

Scott kicks him in the shin. He doesn’t know if there ever really _was_ anything between Liam and Brett, but it had been obvious his death has taken a toll on his beta. They used to be teammates, maybe even friends, back when Liam attended Devenford, that much he’s aware of, and even such a lose connection can leave a deep scar.

“Yeah, no. _Duh_ ,” Liam makes, apparently forgetting his anxiety for a moment. Then, it returns. “It’s just… the guy--”

“Oh,” Scott blurts out before he can stop himself. _Of course_ , that’d make sense. He’s actually surprised by himself at not figuring it out instantly. “Theo?”

He hasn’t been here for most of it, but he knows that they have grown closer. He’d seen the way Theo had gone from Liam’s _responsibility_ to his _anchor_ before they even became friends, and it hadn’t surprised him to hear Liam made him crash in the Geyers’ spare room once he found out Theo’s slept in his truck. As far as he can tell, they seem to barely spend their time apart.

“ _Theo?_ ”, Stiles repeats, voice dripping with disbelief.

Scott supposes he can understand him - _should_ understand him, probably. Ever since Theo’s come back to Beacon, Stiles hasn’t trusted him and given how things had played out in the end, he’d done rightly so. Still, though, it’s obvious that Theo isn’t the same man any more, that being sent to _hell_ has changed him - either that or the time spent with Liam. And _that’s_ where Scott puts his trust. Not into Theo, because he did that once and look where it had gotten him, but into _Liam_. His friend. His beta. Even if sometimes his choices seem questionable, Scott knows that in the end, Liam’s heart is in the right place. So if he falls for Theo? There must be a reason for it.

The way Liam keeps his head hanging at Stiles’ reaction tells him that he doesn’t trust himself, somehow. It’s heartbreaking.

“ _Liam_ ,” he starts softly, sending a glare into Stiles’ direction, “it’s okay. I mean, if anyone can even _say_ what he’s like now, it’s you. And even _Mason_ has come to like him, he told me.” It’s true - Mason’s text have gone from concerned about Liam’s involvement with Theo to something close to approval. Still not really friendly about _Theo_ but positive towards his… friendship with Liam, at least. It’s as good as anything. “Besides, I think you’re capable of making your own decisions.”

There’s quiet for a moment while Liam comprehends his words, finally leaning into his touch openly.

And suddenly, Stiles fakes gagging noises. “ _God_ , that was awfully cheesy.”

Scott clicks his tongue at him. “ _Dude_ , seriously?”

Thankfully, that exchange makes Liam chuckle. “So, you guys don’t--?”

“Mind?”, Stiles supplies. “Like _hell_ I do. Wish you didn’t pick the worst guy around but-- Like Scotty said: Gotta trust your own decisions.”

Relief floods through Liam’s body at that, but the sigh he lets out seems heavy nonetheless.

Scott purses his lips. “Something else?”

Liam hesitates. “It’s stupid. It’s just-- I don’t even _know_ if Theo--”

“Lemme step in right there. Theo’s probably been the _gayest_ elementary school kid you’ve ever met.”, Stiles says. He ignores the frown Scott throws at him because _what_? He doesn’t remember anything like that from back then. Is any behaviour even explicitly gay if you’re below the age of ten? “No, seriously. He’s as straight as a rainbow, I tell ya.”

“Didn’t he, like, flirt with Malia?”

“Manipulative tactic,” Stiles shakes his head. “And, I guess, to piss me off or something.”

“Huh,” Liam makes thoughtfully. “That’s… okay?”

“You should talk to him,” Scott offers. It seems like the logical thing to do, of course, but he knows better than anyone you’re not always doing the most intelligent thing when it comes to feelings. “When you’re ready.”

“Yeah.”, Liam nods. “I-- thanks, guys.”

“Always,” Scott says at the same time as Stiles goes, “No problem, man.”

“Mind if I stay for a bit? I’ve-- I’ve missed you, you know?”, Liam admits then. He curls against Scott’s side, finally turning it into a hug, and crosses his body with his arm.

Over his head, Scott looks at Stiles; he’s met with a kind smile directed at them and then a soft shrug. He knows that his own connection to Liam is stronger, of course, but Stiles didn’t accept him under his wing for nothing. “Get over here, man,” Scott prompts at him.

Stiles laughs as he picks up the remote. “Well, I hope you like _Prison Break_ , kid.”

 

4.

Lydia is the personification of stubbornness - that much Scott has known since they first grew closer during High School. And even before, he’d known her to always get her way, no matter how. So it probably shouldn’t surprise him that it’s her who’s threatening to punch a hole into the door with how hard and rapidly she’s knocking against it.

He’s barely opened the door when she already pushes it further open, strutting inside of the apartment without saying hi. Instead, she already starts muttering when he’s still staring at her dumbfounded.

“Of course she doesn’t take it seriously,” she says to herself (or maybe she _does_ talk to Scott but is too busy pacing around the room). “Or well, _too_ seriously. I thought with all that’s happened in the past, it’d seem obvious that--”

Scott closes the door at last and steps further into the room. “Um, who are we talking about?”

Lydia stops in her tracks, looking at him with her best are-you-freaking-insane expression, like it’s obvious. Scott a bit taken aback by that, because he _does_ pay attention to his friends. It’s his role as the alpha, right? Plus, he truly does care about them. Not like Peter or Theo the first time around when they assembled their packs and only cared about the _power_ . No, they’re his _friends_. So he should know if someone constantly annoys Lydia, shouldn’t he?

“My mother,” Lydia snaps. Her voice is not exactly cold, thankfully. Scott knows that one - it means fixable-problem and no major break.

Then, though, there’s the problem that he really only knows about the first kind when it comes to parents. His mum and him always got along perfectly and while the cooperation with his dad in the past years _did_ help their relationship, it _had_ still been a big seperation. An angry one. But anyway, it’s about Lydia, and since she’s already started talking before, he offers as much.

Lydia shakes her head.

“O...kay,” Scott makes. Really, he’d hoped she’d want to talk. He can listen and he can offer advice. Oh, he could also offer to be a punching bag, but he doesn’t know if his powers, like, turned his skin into steel for supernatural creatures that don’t have strength for an asset or something… “You wanna shoot at something?”

Lydia frowns at him. “Would Mr Argent give us his guns?”

“I-- I didn’t mean literally,” Scott offers weakly. And _wow_ , she seemed way too up for that offer. Maybe it is more serious than he thought. “But I have some video games?”

“Sure,” Lydia agrees with a sigh. Huh, Scott didn’t know she liked gaming.

 

-

 

Turns out: Lydia is _great_ at gaming. Scott should have expected that. It’s not like it’s a secret that Lydia is great at _everything_ . Still, it’s almost scary to see her wipe out zombie after zombie. Would she able to do that in real life, too? Should they have just given her a gun before she’d discovered her powers and gotten rid of their enemies? But then again, _no_. They don’t kill.

But the thing is, while she’s working off her anger at the console, she also starts rambling again. At first, she just keeps yelling at the enemies on screen, using insults Scott has never heard come out off her mouth, but then it slowly turns into rants about her mother. And honestly? He wasn’t even sure if she knows about them all being supernatural creatures - with all the action and loss happening in the last years, the details have gone kinda fuzzy. But apparently she _does_. And then, at the same time, she _doesn’t_. It’s confusing.

“It’s like-- she _knows_ , alright? She was one of the first adults to figure out!” Oh, that’s that then. “And even before, she acted like it was, what? Something like a _phase_. Like I can just stop… being me.”

“Wait, she wants you to turn off… the banshee?”

“Pretty much,” Lydia grunts out. “My powers have become… _stable_ , is the right word, I’d say. There wasn’t anything triggering them since I left Beacon, which makes sense since there’s barely a place more supernatural than this freaking town. But then… the feeling came back at some point and I panicked. Called my mum.”

“You… called your mom about your powers.”

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna bother you guys. I mean, I thought you were busy at college and not…” For a moment she lifts her eyes off the screen, tracing the corner of the room. “Well, anyway. Also, childlike reflexes. They are a thing. And then my _mother_ went, ‘ _Oh honey, I thought we were past this_.’”

Scott looks at her, ignoring how his character on screen gets killed off. Lydia doesn’t care, she keeps her eyes fixed on the game but he knows the way her jaw is clenched is not because of concentration. He can see the soft tremble in it, on her lip and her hands, telling him it’s not just annoyance that should be speaking out of her. “You want me to talk to her?”, he offers.

Perfectly timed, there’s a loud bang on TV as Lydia strikes down the next opponent. Scott vows to not take her scoff too personal. “And do what? Shift in front of her? Scott, she already _knows_ the supernatural exists. She just doesn’t want her daughter to be one.”

“She’s worried,” Scott figures. It would make sense - with leaving Beacon, the influence of everything magical would decrease. There wouldn’t be any reason, at least not as much, for Lydia’s powers to work, and he’s sure that Ms Martin has figured it out as well. They’re dependent on the danger around her, so if they are active, it’s no good news. “Maybe she didn’t mean to ridicule you. Maybe she _really_ thought it was over.” It’s the thing his mom had asked him every time they have defeated something: _is it over_?

This time, Lydia snorts. It’s so unlike herself that it startles Scott for a moment. Finally she pauses the game, setting the controller aside and looks at him. “Scott, my mother is not _stupid_. She’s a realist,” she says, proudly despite everything. “She wouldn’t assume such a thing. There’s plenty of legends out there that we haven’t faced yet. Legends that, looking at us, could all be real.”

Scott can only work with what he’s seen in his own mom or in Stiles’ dad. Outsiders who have been dragged into a world they don’t know, into a world that scares them. They’re brave, yes, but still… “It’s hope,” he finally tells her. “She’s _hoped_ it was over. Just like a minor part of us always does, even if it never is.”

Lydia looks at him sternly, like she’s thinking everything through again. Then, finally, she sighs. “Maybe you’re right. But still, why can’t she just… say so?”

“Maybe that was her way of doing it,” Scott shrugs. “It’s not like she’s really used to talking about that stuff.”

“Then we _should_ make it normal. It _is_ part of our lives. We need to talk to everyone who knows more.”

Scott nods. It seems like the right kind of action. “You want me to come with?”

“Maybe,” she replies swiftly. “For now, though,” she turns towards the TV again, picking up her controller, “I wanna kill some more.”

 

+1.

There’s something unique to pack nights, Scott thinks. They’ve barely ever had a casual one - every major meeting of them was connected to either a crisis or had something else in mind. Parties have been hosted as traps or distractions, pizza nights meant waiting for the next strike and sleepovers were to conceive a battle plan. There’s always been an aura of anxiety around them at those times, a striking difference to what’s going on right now.

Now, there’s nothing but comfort and content spread between the members of his pack, even as Stiles keeps sending glares at both Theo and Nolan every now and then. So does Malia, too, even though she’s in a conversation with the latter of them, initiated by Corey. It’s the most Scott can hope for, really, since they _have_ tried to kill them multiple times before. Stiles always tells him he’s too trusting, but how can he think Theo’s still out for blood when he’s dressed in one of Mason’s colourful sweaters and curled into Liam’s side? The only thing he displays right as he smirks at whatever Lydia is telling Mason about is… softness.

Scott sighs softly, unable to hide the smile from himself at the display - they’re all spread out on and around one of the couches, never more than a few inches between them. It looks like a gigantic pile of people and he has no doubt they wouldn’t mind him squeezing in somewhere, too, just because they have no sense for personal space anyway. Right now, though, he has to soak the plates they’d used because he knows Derek will kill him for sure if he ruined something about his apartment.

He takes the pile of plates with him into the kitchen and leaves the door open. Even if his hearing would give him the opportunity to have the mumbling and laughter from next door omnipresent in his mind, he feels like it’s nicer like this. Closed doors mean restrictions, a sense of escaping, and that’s not at all what he means.

When Theo follows him after a few minutes, though, he seems to seek shelter from the noise. That’s what Scott assumes, anyhow, when he closes the door at last.

“There’s wolfsbane in the cupboard,” Scott tells him with a nod in the direction. It’s usually what people go to the kitchen for when they flee from a crowd. And this is like a party anyway, so that’s nothing out of the ordinary. “If you wanna get something spiked.”

He can hear the smirk in Theo’s voice even without turning away from the sink. “Immune to that, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Scott makes. “So you can’t get drunk?”

He almost curses himself at the relief that spreads through his body when Theo walks up to him, leaning next to the counter where he can see him. He’s meant what he told Liam, that he believes him when he says Theo has changed, but somehow… he still doesn’t feel completely at ease with him, especially not with his back turned towards him. He wishes it were different, but he fears that might take some more time. Now, though, he can see Theo’s shrug and the way his eyes scan through the room. “I don’t drink anyways, so…”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t wanna lose control over my mind while I’m awake, too.”, Theo admits. It says a lot that he doesn’t flip him off, that he’s honest towards him. It’s a proof for a change within him in some degree. At least Scott hopes so.

“Nightmares?”, he guesses.

Theo hesitates for a moment, then he corrects, “Memories.”

“Oh.” Scott _could_ ask what they’re about. He could ask what hell has been like, if it’s anything like what people picture or not. But he knows better. He knows there’s no need to probe into the wound, especially not when he is the one who caused it. He’s wondered in the past year - how could they let people like Gerard continue to run around and send Theo under the ground? It seems unfair. “That sucks.”

Theo shrugs slightly. “It’s… getting better. Liam helps.” He turns and picks up a tea towel, holding out his hand for a plate.

Scott eyes him for a moment, but then he figures it’s better to just accept the help. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Theo hums softly in return but doesn’t say anything. Scott feels the tension slowly drop from his shoulders as they clean and dry the plates, like his body needed some time to realize this is not at all like the last time it was just the two of them in the same room. He can smell the hint of nervosity on the other, like he’s afraid to mess up the peace between them. It sends another wave of calm towards Scott.

Then, of course, he messes it up.

“Why doesn’t your mom know you’re back in Beacon?” Theo’s not looking at him but down at the plate in his hand. His voice isn’t accusatory, but not concerned either. It’s pure curiosity.

Scott hesitates, unsure what to answer. He hasn’t expected the question, least of all coming from _Theo_. For all the rest of the pack knows (minus Stiles, of course), she’s totally in the loop.

“And if it was supposed to be a secret, you should have warned the rest of them,” Theo continues. Scott wonders if mind-reading is one of his chimera powers. It doesn’t sound like he’s threatening him, so that means...

“Wait, did anybody tell her?”

Theo shakes his head. “She’d told me about how she misses you - at a time where you were already back here, as far as I know. So I asked Liam about it and he didn’t know either. Figured you’re keeping secrets from Melissa, so we passed it onto the others.”

“I-- Thanks.”, Scott hears himself say. It’s not that he really meant to keep a _secret_ ; that sounds too mean. Still, he’s glad nobody told his mom. She’d be furious. “So you… you talk to her?”

“I bring her lunch sometimes.”, Theo explains. “Figured it’s the least I can do.”

Scott can’t say much about that - he has no idea _what_ to say, especially since it’s not his part. Theo’s coping with what he has done and what has been done to him, and, from what he can tell, in the ways he best seems fit. And how exactly _do_ you make amends for such things? It’s not like there’s a guide to that anywhere. His mom would have said something if he’s overstepped, if she didn’t want him to be around at all, that much he knows. They have it handled.

It takes a few minutes of silence before Theo starts again. “I was just thinking. She’d appreciated knowing you’re around.”

In return, Scott grimaces softly. He _knows_. He misses his mom, too, and he’s fed up with actively avoiding her. They have a good relationship, the best actually, and apart from the time he’s tried to keep being a werewolf a secret, he’s _never_ tried to keep something from her. Still… he can’t. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

“Is it because you quit college?”, Theo inquires. It’s bold of him to ask such a question like this. He used to gather information way differently in the past. Sly questions, stalking and… however else he did it. The thing is: Theo never _asked_. Another reminder of how he’s changed. He takes the tilt of Scott’s head as an answer and continues, “It’s probably the last thing your mom would be mad about.”

“I know,” Scott admits. Because he _does_. Once upon a time, she has cared about his grades a lot; like the average mother does. Now, she still wants him to do well, of course, so that he can live a life outside of being an alpha, too. And that’s where the problem begins. “It’s… difficult.”

Theo sighs. “Your mom’s an understanding person. Whatever your reason is, she’ll accept it.” He doesn’t ask for it, which Scott is thankful for. Still, he’s asked _more_ than the others and he’s not quite sure how that happened. Did the others just accept how he’s currently living? Didn’t they dare to ask? He can’t tell.

“It’s not just that. It’s…” He reaches for the drain and lets out the water, struggling for words. “When I was at Davis, I felt drawn back to Beacon the whole time. Not just because of the pack, that wouldn’t make sense since everyone’s been scattered everywhere - I just kept… worrying. And I know Liam’s capable and that he has all of you guys here to take care of things but…”

“It wasn’t just homesickness,” Theo guesses. He’s wearing a slight frown, like he knows way too well where Scott is coming from.

“No.” It’s fear. “Beacon has always attracted the worst beasts.”

“Tell me about it,” Theo makes with a light scoff. “Still, what’s that to do with Melissa?”

“I couldn’t make myself tell her. I don’t know, it’s… it’d break her heart to know I just can’t _move_ on. That I’m stuck in the person I’ve been in the past and that I can’t let go of this town, despite everything…” Scott sighs. “I haven’t even made it through a whole semester without feeling like I’m going crazy with worry. I’d even lost grip on my wolf just because I thought I was in the wrong place. It’s like I _can’t grow up_.” Isn’t that the nightmare of every parent? That their kid doesn’t learn to live their own life, that it always comes back home and can’t handle themself?

Now, Theo’s features grow soft and somehow Scott can tell it’s not pity but _understanding_ , something he’d have never expect to get from him. They’re too different, or at least they were, with Theo’s hunger for violence and cruelty. “Scott, from the guy who has actually broken your mother’s heart.” They both know what he refers to, and they both know not to say it loudly. “You being your truest, most loyal _self_ won’t do it, trust me. It’s something to be proud of, not the opposite.”

Scott’s not sure, it might be the fact that it’s Theo of all people who tells him this, but it makes him think that maybe he’s right. His mom has always valued helping people, hence why she’s become a nurse.

“It’d make sense for your wolf to long for home. It was created here, and it’s spent the past years protecting this town. Of course it wouldn’t let go so easily,” Theo continues. He’s spent his youth researching supernatural creatures, Scott remember, he _would_ have the knowledge, maybe even more insight than Deaton. Deaton’s always stood apart from them, learnt through old legends, while Theo did not only that but _met_ beings they have yet to encounter. “It’s no surprise you couldn’t concentrate on college. It needs _time_ to move on.”

“That… makes sense.”

Now, Theo is grinning. Scott can’t recall that he’s seen it since Theo came back, at least not such an honest one. It looks strange but good. “Of course it does.”

“Any tips? On… how to do it?”

“Stay here for a while. Not necessarily the apartment, but in Beacon. But if something happens…”, Theo says thoughtfully, “let _us_ take care of it. Your wolf will learn that it doesn’t always need to step into action. Then it’ll slowly grow accustomed to not being needed _that_ badly.”

Scott nods. He supposes he can do that. He’ll hear about things going on, of course, and it’ll probably be hard to stay out of it, but he can do that. The human part of him trusts Liam, otherwise he wouldn’t even have tried to leave, wouldn’t have left the town in his hands, but the wolf is a different story. Still, he’ll work on getting there.

In a swift motion, Theo shoves himself away from the counter. “And then, of course, you should talk to your mom. Trust me, she’ll understand.” He doesn’t wait for Scott reply, but starts walking back towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey Theo, wait.”, he calls when Theo reaches the door. He’s met with a raise of an eyebrow, but a small smile in place as well. “I… Thanks.”

Theo twists the door open. “Least I could do.”

**Author's Note:**

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